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(some extracts from his book..)
(he started boxing training in Feb '83 in the Bronx and started sparring in Jun '83):
Sparring was the gospel of New York gyms. It was their faith. Everybody spars. Sparring is how you become a good fighter. It is far more important than the road work, the bag work, the skipping, the shadow boxing, all of it. The most essential thing you need to do if you want to be a good fighter is to spar four or five times a week without fail. And in New York, sparring was not going through the motions either - these were merciless ****-ups. This was a boxing commandment I took with me when I returned to England and to which I adhered throughout my career.
I started off with one set of three rounds, then over the months that progressed into six-rounders, then eventually full-blooded 12-rounders. We even did some 15-rounders to condition ourselves so that a 12-round fight felt easier. That was how I honed my ring intelligence.
--
The first trainer I had was an older man called Andy Martinez, a Puerto Rican. He was only about 5' tall. He got me exceptionally fit. He taught me only two punches, which were the straight left and the straight right, no hooks to the body, no body shots. He only worked with amateurs, mainly getting them in shape - which he did superbly. After about two years, I wanted to work with Maximo Pierret, the main trainer at the Jerome boxing gym.
--
People sometimes say to me why do you have to repeat one punch so many times to perfect it? Well, these are not simple skills. It took me two years to learn how to throw the right hand. Then there's the left hook, the right hand to the body, the left upper cut to the body, the right upper cut to the body, the right hook to the body - these punches take years and years to learn. You don't climb through the ropes and just do it.
--
(being taught martial arts techniques in the Bronx from the summer of '86 on):
Doctor (Walter Jonson) had an expansive knowledge of internal and external martial art forms such as aikido, jiu-jitsu, karate, tai chi, and Chinese boxing, and at first it was very frustrating. For example, martial arts like pa-qua are open handed, but obviously boxing uses a closed fist. Doctor's martial arts were about holding, striking with your palm and fingers, whereas boxing was about striking only with your knuckles. He was trying to teach me these forms, but because I liked him so much I couldn't tell him that I was struggling to incoporate them into boxing. This went on for perhaps three years.
What I did extract from everything I observed about martial arts was the foot movement, which was all about positioning and escape. The stance and poise in martial arts is 98% on your back foot and 2% on your front. Boxing is 50/50, unless you go into a position to strike, at which point you vary the weight distribution. I took that and spliced into my boxing style. People often ask me how the martial arts and boxing mix. The point is this: boxing is actually the highest form of martial arts, because you have to learn how to absorb punishment before you can initiate it.
Another aspect Doctor brought to my game was strecthing. Obviously, as a boxer, flexibilty is vital, but many fighters only have flexibility in one dimension, namely that of the direction of the punch. So another aspect I took from the martial arts was to develop all-encompassing flexibility, or amplitude, and by that I mean agility in every direction. For example I learned how to do the Japanese splits, which is where your legs are completely flat, then you roll your abdomen and chest to the floor. This is an excruciating skill to develop and can only be achieved by constant repetition. A fight is not just about strength, it is about flexibility. These extraordinery skills, when taken into the ring proved to be very powerful tools.
--
I never did much weight-training - lifting weights and boxing never go together, it tightens you up. Boxing is about being loose and relaxed.
--
(Jan '88 through Apr '89):
I would train first thing in the morning, about 5.30am, finish at about 7.30am and then start gym work at 2pm or 4pm depending on how I felt.
--
(Apr '89 through Sept '95):
Brighton was ideal for the early morning road work before the gym. I used to sometimes run up the very steep steps at the cliff tops which was pretty easy. Hill running, though, I didn't like it at all. There is a place called Bear Road which was just the longest uphill slog you've ever seen! Usually I'd run, but sometimes cycle. Beach running sessions were also a real test. The large pebbles on Brighton Beach ****** the stamina out of your legs within 50 yards, you could almost instantly feel the lactic acid building up.
The late morning or early afternoon was gym time (often at Barry's Matchroom gym in Romford, latterly at my own gym at home). I would start by warming up, which consisted of 15 minutes of stretching, then 15 minutes of shadow boxing, but not just using fists, using my feet and body to develop agility. Much of this would be done in front of mirrors, what I like to call more fanciful boxing. Then, I'd do between three and six rounds (of three minutes each) on the heavy bag, moving around it, playing with it. Then three rounds on the pads - Ronnie rarely directed the pad work, I told him where I wanted him to place the pads, because I had certain shots in mind that I needed to perfect. The pads were great for target practice, accuracy and power. My need was to train for power, because I naturally had the accuracy. What I needed to achieve was landing a punch which would have a long-term effect, namely it would manifest itself three or four rounds later. If you keep hitting someone with good shots to the body, maybe only twice a round, four rounds later it will catch up with them and break them down.
Then I would do six rounds of skipping, but without rest, I would skip straight through the four-minute clock on the wall. Then it was sit-ups. Although I cannot deny sit-ups are very important for the abdomen (compulsory infact), I would only do 50 or 60 repititions, twice a day. My experience taught me that there was nothing more effective than taking actual body shots. Just as I learned in New York, you would leave your body exposed and tell your sparring partner to work on it with full-blooded punches to really harden your stomach. It was not about having hard abdominals, it was about immunity. You could do 1000 sit-ups a day, but if a fighter hits you correctly, you'd crumble. The only way to gain immunity was by taking hundreds of shots to the body.
This was where sparring came in. Throughout my career, I probably sparred more than any other fighter I know. I would start to spar about two weeks into the training schedule. The training would change slightly to half an hour of shadow boxing, between three and 12 rounds of sparring, then skipping, speedball and sit-ups. For a championship fight, I would spar usually 125 rounds. Nothing was more important than sparring. When you haven't sparred for a month or two, you go in there, the guy throws a punch and you instinctively squint. Within a week of intense sparring, he throws the same punch and you don't even blink, you stop flinching and move.
(he started boxing training in Feb '83 in the Bronx and started sparring in Jun '83):
Sparring was the gospel of New York gyms. It was their faith. Everybody spars. Sparring is how you become a good fighter. It is far more important than the road work, the bag work, the skipping, the shadow boxing, all of it. The most essential thing you need to do if you want to be a good fighter is to spar four or five times a week without fail. And in New York, sparring was not going through the motions either - these were merciless ****-ups. This was a boxing commandment I took with me when I returned to England and to which I adhered throughout my career.
I started off with one set of three rounds, then over the months that progressed into six-rounders, then eventually full-blooded 12-rounders. We even did some 15-rounders to condition ourselves so that a 12-round fight felt easier. That was how I honed my ring intelligence.
--
The first trainer I had was an older man called Andy Martinez, a Puerto Rican. He was only about 5' tall. He got me exceptionally fit. He taught me only two punches, which were the straight left and the straight right, no hooks to the body, no body shots. He only worked with amateurs, mainly getting them in shape - which he did superbly. After about two years, I wanted to work with Maximo Pierret, the main trainer at the Jerome boxing gym.
--
People sometimes say to me why do you have to repeat one punch so many times to perfect it? Well, these are not simple skills. It took me two years to learn how to throw the right hand. Then there's the left hook, the right hand to the body, the left upper cut to the body, the right upper cut to the body, the right hook to the body - these punches take years and years to learn. You don't climb through the ropes and just do it.
--
(being taught martial arts techniques in the Bronx from the summer of '86 on):
Doctor (Walter Jonson) had an expansive knowledge of internal and external martial art forms such as aikido, jiu-jitsu, karate, tai chi, and Chinese boxing, and at first it was very frustrating. For example, martial arts like pa-qua are open handed, but obviously boxing uses a closed fist. Doctor's martial arts were about holding, striking with your palm and fingers, whereas boxing was about striking only with your knuckles. He was trying to teach me these forms, but because I liked him so much I couldn't tell him that I was struggling to incoporate them into boxing. This went on for perhaps three years.
What I did extract from everything I observed about martial arts was the foot movement, which was all about positioning and escape. The stance and poise in martial arts is 98% on your back foot and 2% on your front. Boxing is 50/50, unless you go into a position to strike, at which point you vary the weight distribution. I took that and spliced into my boxing style. People often ask me how the martial arts and boxing mix. The point is this: boxing is actually the highest form of martial arts, because you have to learn how to absorb punishment before you can initiate it.
Another aspect Doctor brought to my game was strecthing. Obviously, as a boxer, flexibilty is vital, but many fighters only have flexibility in one dimension, namely that of the direction of the punch. So another aspect I took from the martial arts was to develop all-encompassing flexibility, or amplitude, and by that I mean agility in every direction. For example I learned how to do the Japanese splits, which is where your legs are completely flat, then you roll your abdomen and chest to the floor. This is an excruciating skill to develop and can only be achieved by constant repetition. A fight is not just about strength, it is about flexibility. These extraordinery skills, when taken into the ring proved to be very powerful tools.
--
I never did much weight-training - lifting weights and boxing never go together, it tightens you up. Boxing is about being loose and relaxed.
--
(Jan '88 through Apr '89):
I would train first thing in the morning, about 5.30am, finish at about 7.30am and then start gym work at 2pm or 4pm depending on how I felt.
--
(Apr '89 through Sept '95):
Brighton was ideal for the early morning road work before the gym. I used to sometimes run up the very steep steps at the cliff tops which was pretty easy. Hill running, though, I didn't like it at all. There is a place called Bear Road which was just the longest uphill slog you've ever seen! Usually I'd run, but sometimes cycle. Beach running sessions were also a real test. The large pebbles on Brighton Beach ****** the stamina out of your legs within 50 yards, you could almost instantly feel the lactic acid building up.
The late morning or early afternoon was gym time (often at Barry's Matchroom gym in Romford, latterly at my own gym at home). I would start by warming up, which consisted of 15 minutes of stretching, then 15 minutes of shadow boxing, but not just using fists, using my feet and body to develop agility. Much of this would be done in front of mirrors, what I like to call more fanciful boxing. Then, I'd do between three and six rounds (of three minutes each) on the heavy bag, moving around it, playing with it. Then three rounds on the pads - Ronnie rarely directed the pad work, I told him where I wanted him to place the pads, because I had certain shots in mind that I needed to perfect. The pads were great for target practice, accuracy and power. My need was to train for power, because I naturally had the accuracy. What I needed to achieve was landing a punch which would have a long-term effect, namely it would manifest itself three or four rounds later. If you keep hitting someone with good shots to the body, maybe only twice a round, four rounds later it will catch up with them and break them down.
Then I would do six rounds of skipping, but without rest, I would skip straight through the four-minute clock on the wall. Then it was sit-ups. Although I cannot deny sit-ups are very important for the abdomen (compulsory infact), I would only do 50 or 60 repititions, twice a day. My experience taught me that there was nothing more effective than taking actual body shots. Just as I learned in New York, you would leave your body exposed and tell your sparring partner to work on it with full-blooded punches to really harden your stomach. It was not about having hard abdominals, it was about immunity. You could do 1000 sit-ups a day, but if a fighter hits you correctly, you'd crumble. The only way to gain immunity was by taking hundreds of shots to the body.
This was where sparring came in. Throughout my career, I probably sparred more than any other fighter I know. I would start to spar about two weeks into the training schedule. The training would change slightly to half an hour of shadow boxing, between three and 12 rounds of sparring, then skipping, speedball and sit-ups. For a championship fight, I would spar usually 125 rounds. Nothing was more important than sparring. When you haven't sparred for a month or two, you go in there, the guy throws a punch and you instinctively squint. Within a week of intense sparring, he throws the same punch and you don't even blink, you stop flinching and move.
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